


In the Blood

by jbwritesthings



Series: Dragon Age: A Legacy [6]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Blood Magic, Gen, I'm just doing backstory for an OC, Original Characters doing Original things, Orlais, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 00:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16923252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbwritesthings/pseuds/jbwritesthings
Summary: Setting: 9:25 Dragon, somewhere in the Emerald GravesBackground: Etienne de Rousseau, the son of Marquis de Rousseau, is a talented mage, like his mother, and many in the White Spire speak of his future capabilities. Passing his Harrowing with great skill and cunning, his future is bright in the Circle. Despite this, he elects to partake in hunting down demons, blood mages, and abominations due to how his mother died and his desire to gain vengeance for her death. He finds himself accompanying templars and a fellow mage into wild, untouched lands...





	1. Part I

“Etienne, it’s time to wake up.” The warm voice was welcomed way to be roused from his slumber, Etienne considered. Perhaps it was the only good part of this journey. His back ached from sleeping on the ground in their camps as they trudged deeper and deeper into unknown realms, hunting down a blood mage. He rolled onto his back, taking a breath and running a hand through his dark curls. Slowly, grey eyes opened to look up at the blond man sitting by him. “Come. The templars are ready to begin and need our help.”

“Mon amour, you’re a wonderful sight to awaken to.” Etienne reached out, running a hand through the long golden strands Auréle wore. Blue eyes rolled as the slender and handsome faced man sat there, taking Etienne’s hand and eyes moving over to where the templars were. Etienne sat up a bit, looking over to them as well. His jaw set and, with the moment gone, he rose to a stand, putting on his cloak and moving over to the lieutenant.

“Without the phylactery, it keeps getting harder,” he said. “But you are sure it was mentioned he was spotted in this area, no?”

“Don’t question me, Rousseau.”

“I will do as I please.” The sudden grip on his cloak didn’t surprise Etienne, nor the annoyed look on the gnarled templar’s face. This lieutenant had, apparently, been in the business of mage hunting for years and was far Etienne’s senior. That didn’t meant he couldn’t make a jibe or two.

“Just because you’re the son of a marquis, does not mean you will get special treatment from me.”

Etienne took the templar’s hand idly, with two fingers, and slowly detached it from his robe. “You will wrinkle the wyvern skin, monsieur.” He straightened his cloak, raising a brow and moving down to the trail. “The only reason I ask, Lieutenant Graves, is because the reports mention the apostate heading west...” Etienne rested his hands on his hips, looking west and letting out a low breath. “But south...” He looked that way, off the trail and into the woods. He took in how thick they grew and how they encompassed the area.

_Etienne..._

A cold embrace seemed to take hold for a second and it caused Etienne’s jaw to clench. Graves seemed to notice it as well, walking up beside him.

“I was considering that before you came up, you know,” he said gruffly, Marcher accent rough. He glanced over at Etienne, taking in the young man’s expression. His own softened, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You good, kid?”

“What?” Etienne seemed to snap out of a trance. “I’m...Fine. It just...It feels odd. Different than the others we’ve dealt with.” Etienne stepped off the small ridge, marking the trail and looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “Shall we blaze a new trail, then? See what adventure we run into.”

“Don’t be so quick to walk into possible death, Rousseau.”

“Possible death? Hardly. Possible justice. More likely.”

Graves let out a sigh, waving to the others to follow. Auréle watched the two of them, keeping back enough to not seem suspicious, but listened carefully to the exchange.

“The chance of finding the one who killed your mother isn’t very high.” Etienne kept walking, causing Graves to roll his eyes, pushing back greasy gray hairs. “You’ll just do something stupid to get yourself in trouble and you know it.”

“I will not and what sort of son would I be if I didn’t try?”

“I knew Sybille and—”

“I know, she wouldn’t approve of recklessness,” Etienne remarked dryly, waving his hand. “I’ve no intention of being reckless, so do not worry.”

Even if there was a chance it was the one, Etienne would take it. He wouldn’t allow his mother’s death to be in vain. He fell back beside Auréle, quietly watching everyone around him. So much had been taken from him due to magic. His mother, his inheritance, his father to an extent. His father did what he could, but it wouldn’t be enough, not with the Chantry dictating mages were dangerous and needed to be collared and controlled. The phylacteries the templars carried of their own was enough of that.

Even now, they didn’t entirely trust them. Despite the fact he and Auréle were working with them to hunt down a blood mage.

“Are you alright?” Auréle pulled Etienne out of his thoughts and he realized he must have had a clouded look on his features.

Etienne gave him a small smile, brushing his hand against his. “If you’re here, I am _more_ than well.” This caused Auréle to smile, a look of relief on his features. Etienne turned his attention ahead, though, feeling a heaviness starting to press in. The veil was thin, and the Fade was starting to bleed through the more they walked.

Soon, the sun began to set, and Etienne knew it would be time to make camp. He wasn’t patient enough, though, to wait to find the beast where he lurked. But Graves gave the order and they had to comply. Etienne did what was necessary to help but soon found himself on the edge of camp, staring into the darkness.

_Etienne_ …

His eyes glanced about, trying to discern where the voice was coming from. He looked back to the others in the camp, seeing they were not reacting to anything, not even Auréle. With a huff, he rose to a stand and leaned against a tree, trying to peer out into the darkness. Perhaps a shape would show itself, or something other than a nug. He was becoming antsy, like something was clawing at him. If he just…

As he took a step, he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder. He looked over to see Graves behind him, a stern look in his brown eyes.

“No one leaves camp alone. This is what I meant by reckless.”

“I was merely—”

“Get some sleep.” Graves grabbed Etienne by his collar, dragging him back to the camp. “Tomorrow’s going to be a rough day.”

“With how you’ve treated my cloak, I would say _today_ is a rough day,” Etienne grumbled. “Ill-mannered Marcher.” He straightened his cloak, deciding he would need to sleep in it tonight. The air was colder, much colder than usual for this season.

He sat down on his bed mat, letting out a sigh and looking up at the stars through the trees. He barely registered Auréle sitting beside him. He felt a mixture of stifled and heat running through him. It was a peculiar mix, to say the least.

“I’m worried about this,” Auréle finally spoke. “I have a bad feeling.”

“Nothing some sleep won’t help,” Etienne muttered, rolling onto his side. “Soon we will be back to the Spire and have some privacy. For now, I suppose Graves is right. We ought to sleep.”

 

* * *

 

 

The forest was steeped in a deep fog, twirling around the trees in some sort of haunted dance. Etienne walked deeper and deeper into it, trying to find a path or some way out.

“Etienne…” The voice again. He turned to try to locate it, but the fog made it impossible to see. “Etienne…” There. Etienne saw the form of a woman with long, dark curls. A form he recognized from years upon years ago.

“Mother,” he whispered, following the form for a moment but a slow realization sank in. This was a dream. And something was luring him, wearing his mother’s face. He felt a low rage boil deep within, each step he took solid and with purpose.

“Come out,” he ordered. “You cannot fool me.”

“What an arrogant boy.” The voice from before. A soft, feminine sound and it seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once. “You did not get that from me, perhaps your father. Hugues always tended to be that way. It was endearing, though.”

“Come now, my mother’s been dead for sixteen years and you think I’ll believe you are her spirit?” Etienne scoffed. “You insult me. Speak how you will about my father, my family, but I know better.”

Suddenly, the form appeared before him and for a moment, his heart ached. She looked how he remembered. Dark curls were a large contrast to her porcelain colored skin. Gray eyes akin to his own looked at him, wide and thoughtful. He took a step back as her small frame neared his, unsure of what to make of what was occurring or how to react. If she were a demon, he ought to act first. But this may be a battle of wits. He knew he should be careful, yet he did not move when her hand came to his cheek.

“You need to shave.” It was a motherly chide yet it caused his stomach to churn.

“Don’t touch me,” he hissed. She even wore the robe he last saw her in, it was all a cruel trick. “Show your true face.”

“You’re angry.” He saw a flicker of something in her gaze. “Good. You’ll find the man who killed me, I can help you defeat him.”

Etienne contemplated the offer. He could outsmart the being taking his mother’s form. Then they would be able to find the blood mage and enact justice. It was tempting, to be able to gain power to get revenge…

His gaze narrowed as he looked at the demon.

“You continue to treat me as a fool.”

“But you considered it.” Her voice changed, turning darker and more heated. That of a demon. Her shape began to warp into what she was; a rage demon. “Your trials are never over, little mage.”

 

* * *

 

 

Etienne awoke with a start, looking around the camp and seeing everyone else was still sleeping save for the templar on watch duty. But even then, he seemed to be dozing as well. With a huff, Etienne rose to a stand, straightening his dark cloak. He made his way over to the templar, Raoul he thought.

“I can take watch if you need to sleep,” he offered.

“Fat chance of that, mage,” the man seethed, glaring at him from beneath a red bowl cut. Etienne mildly wondered if it was styled that way as a result of a dare.

“Come now, Raoul, you were about asleep. Allow me. I cannot sleep.” He sat down on the log beside him, giving a bit of a shrug. “If we are going to be hunting blood mages together, we ought to trust each other a bit, no?”

“Never trust a mage,” Raoul growled. “Not because of who they are as a person, but because of what they may become.”

“You’re a wonderfully dark fellow, has anyone told you that?”

“I just have experience.”

“Fair enough.” Etienne sat in silence beside Raoul for a moment or so before placing his hands on his knees and standing with a sigh. “I shall go patrol, then! And if something happens, you will hear me scream and be able to alert everyone else then, hm?”

“Graves said no one leaves the camp alone.”

“Ah, but you have my phylactery,” Etienne pointed out as he made his way to the edge of camp. “You can track me down if I decide to,” he paused for dramatic effect “run off to join the blood mage and gain power unimaginable!” He didn’t care to listen to what Raoul said as he turned and continued on his way.

He needed to clear his head and he couldn’t do that with all of them. The dream had been troubling, to say the least. He knew the Veil was thin here but the fact a demon had attempted to entice him after he passed his harrowing was a problem. He wondered if Auréle had had a similar encounter.

Etienne decided that would have to wait for the morning, for now he had to make sure he didn’t get lost in the winding trees and darkness. That would be the true challenge of the night.

_Etienne…_

The whisper again. It was as if the very forest called out to him. He looked up to see the stars, only to realize they were blocked out by the foliage above. His hand rested on a tree as he surveyed the area, pausing as he felt something on the tree. He glanced over, realizing there was a symbol etched into the tree. He felt his blood run cold as he realized what the symbol was. Blood magic. He looked around for another sign and saw another etched on a tree a few yards off.

“Don’t do anything reckless,” he muttered under his breath but decided against the logic, following the trail. They, perhaps, were old marks. No reason to get everyone up in arms if the mage was long gone. He continued on the path, finally coming to a little hollow and his eyes widened in shock.

“Maker…”

The air of the area made his stomach churn, but even more than that, bodies lay strewn about the ground, around a symbol drawn in the ground. The complex markings were not some idle apostate taking on blood magic. It was someone who had coerced with demons and studied it for years. Etienne gripped at his staff as he slowly made his way into the area, minding the mangled corpses and skeletons.

Why hadn’t they been alerted to this monster before?

“Etienne de Rousseau, you’ve finally arrived.”

Etienne quickly turned to face the owner of the voice, realizing it was a man around his father’s age. But there was something off about him, the look in his gaze, the paleness of his skin. Etienne’s gaze flashed down to his arms, seeing the marks of a blood mage apparent beneath the sleeves of the torn robe. His pale blue eyes held a crazed look to them within the gaunt face, framed with wild dark hair and beard. It was then Etienne realized this was precisely what Graves meant by doing something reckless.

He readied his staff only to feel his body freeze, a painful sensation seeping into his blood. The mage had raised a hand, simply done that, and it had stopped Etienne in his tracks. Etienne watched with wide, fearful eyes as the blood mage neared him. He tried to move, tried to do something, but felt himself firmly planted and held where he stood.

“You have your mother’s eyes, and it is not too apparent who your father is in your features,” the mage stated. “Yes, it will do.”

“What…Will do?” Etienne struggled out.

"I shall keep you as my son."


	2. Part II

This man was crazy, gone mad with blood magic. He had forced Etienne to follow him into the cave he had made his abode. No matter how much Etienne had struggled against the hold, he’d been forced to follow, forced to sit by the fire. He offered him food and Etienne refused and that, perhaps, was the only time the man heeded his wants.

“I am sure you have some questions.” When Etienne did not respond, merely glared coldly at the man, he chuckled, setting down his bowl. “My name is Garnier. Your mother and I were apprentices together. We studied and worked together, we were inseparable.”

“Let me guess, you liked her more than a friend,” Etienne sneered, eyes sharp with disgust. Now it was making sense, to some extent. The reason for drawing him out here was due to an obsession.

“You’re clever, just like she was,” Garnier sighed wistfully. “Your father ruined everything. That mission, I had planned for us to run off. But your father got in the way, stole her from me.”

“She wasn’t a belonging to be stolen, she was a person with her own wishes and feelings,” Etienne snapped, trying to pull on the binds around him. He’d walked into the trap. Each symbol he’d touched…

Stupid boy.

“You just read far into it,” Etienne continued, keeping a heated yet cold gaze on the man. “You are just a fool who thinks she had no right to choose…”

“Silence!” A sharp pain went through Etienne and he sucked in a breath but refused to cry out. “You are wrong! Your father lured her with his wealth and status.”

Etienne gave a dry chuckle at that. “Oh, I am sure it was more than that…Looking at you, anyway.” He struggled to get his taunt out. “You do not compare to the Rousseau men at all.” Another sharp pain moving through his body, almost causing him to double over but he kept himself seated straight, defiantly looking Garnier in the eye. “Does it anger you? Does it make your blood boil?”

Garnier rose to a stand, storming over to where Etienne sat. Etienne refused to back down, though, his chin jutted out a bit and keeping eye contact with the madman. “It may, but you will soon learn to listen to your new father.”

“Or you can fuck off,” Etienne growled through clenched teeth. The sudden strike against his cheek was little surprise and he spat on the blood mage’s shoes. There was a moment of strained silence between them before Etienne looked up from beneath dark curls. “Did you kill her?”

The question was heavy and dark. Garnier seemed to consider how to respond and that made Etienne realize his guilt, no matter how he rationalized it in his twisted mind.

“She wished to speak some sort of sense into me after I made a deal with a desire demon,” he confessed. “Yet she would not listen to my reason and so I decided it was better—”

By sheer force of will, Etienne broke through the binds on him, rage boiling in his blood at the admission. His hands wrapped around Garnier’s neck, slamming him to the ground and squeezing tightly.

“Better?! It was better to leave a boy without his mother?! My father without her?! Was it better for _you_ and your petty jealousy?!” He pressed harder on his throat, not allowing the monster to even gasp for air. “I’ll kill you with my bare hands! I swear to the Maker!”

Garnier’s eyes flashed red and Etienne felt his body freeze up and felt his blood run cold. He fell back, a howling sound filling the cave. He raised his hand as well he could, casting a dispell and removing the bind’s grip on him. He scrambled for his staff, turning to be face to face with what had once been Garnier but now was a distorted form. An abomination.

“You could have learned, Etienne,” the monster growled, “we could have given you power. Everything you could possibly want, everything taken from you.”

“Be turned into looking like that for a title, land, and wealth?” He gave a bit of a shrug. “Maker, no. I would never give up this face.” The chilling feeling in the cave only worsened and the howls of demons and spirits sounded. Etienne knew, then, he was outnumbered.

In a quick move, he darted towards the exit, fully intending to escape and regroup with the others. Yet when he reached the mouth, he froze in his tracks. His eyes widened in horror, seeing the corpses which had littered the ravine were animated, moving, and attacking the templars and Auréle.

And they were losing.

“Auréle!” Etienne called out, catching the man’s attention.

“Etienne! You’re alive!” He shouted, causing Graves to look over and see him.

“Rousseau, get to work!” He snapped, thrusting his sword into a corpse’s abdomen. Etienne was more than happy to oblige, preparing an ice wall only to freeze and see where they were standing. He looked over his shoulder, eyes wide as he realized he was coming.

“Get out of the Circle!” He shouted, realizing the reanimated corpses were corralling them there. He rushed over to try to stop it, only for the corpses to cut him off. In a heated rage, he slammed his staff to the ground, a wave of magic blasting the shambling bodies out of his way. “Auréle!” He ran, reaching his hand out to pull him out of the Circle, only for the spell to begin. Etienne was thrown back, off his feet and onto his back. He scrambled back up to his feet, seeing the barrier in place. “No!” He summoned mana but finding it difficult to do so. He had expended a bit just to break the bind on himself. Yet he pushed himself, trying his hardest to break the spell until he fell to his knees.

“These are your friends, then?” The grotesque voice asked from behind him. “Especially the mage?”

“Don’t you touch them!” Etienne threatened, standing up and turning to face the beast. “I will do whatever you want, I swear. I’ll…I’ll be your son, I’ll learn what you teach, I swear it. Just let them go.”

The abomination seemed to consider this for a moment, its cruel gaze looking Etienne over. It tilted its head in an unnatural way and Etienne lifted his chin higher. He knew what he was resigning himself to but if it meant protecting the others, he would do it.

“No, too risky,” the beast finally said. “I have not survived this long by allowing people to live.” The sound coming from behind Etienne kept him from turning around. His eyes were wide with horror, he didn’t want to look. The screams, the otherworldly sounds, he knew very well what had happened. He was frozen in his spot as the sinking realization settled in the bottom of his stomach.

“Etienne…” The faint voice behind him gave a bit of hope, though, he and spun around to see Auréle laying on the ground. He rushed over to him, lifting him up gently. “It’s…Inside me. There’s something…” He flinched at the sudden sharp pain and Etienne’s eyes widened in horror.

“No, no, no you passed your Harrowing, this can’t be!”

“Just because a Harrowing is passed does not mean you are immune,” the abomination remarked dryly.

“Fight it, Auréle,” Etienne muttered, watching with a pained gaze as he struggled.

“It’s…no use. It’s too strong. You have to kill me.”

“You could save him,” the abomination began. “If you just allow my help, my knowledge to flow into you…”

Perhaps Garnier had hoped for some piece of his mother to hold onto, but Etienne realized the demon had other goals. A younger, more capable mage to possess. Etienne let his shoulders drooped, appearing to resign to his fate. The abomination wrapped its hands on his shoulders, in a falsely comforting manner.

“See? Was that so hard? All he needed—”

Any other word was cut off by the dagger through the abomination’s jaw. Etienne had drawn his dagger discreetly and moved quickly, turning and moving the blade to the beast’s throat.

“You still think me a fool. Pathetic.” In a quick move of his wrist, he pulled the dagger out and plunged it into the abomination’s chest. “This is for my mother!” A terrifying wind picked up around them, howls and screams mixing in with it, almost deafening. The curse on the land had been broken, albeit it was scarred permanently. Etienne kept the dagger firmly placed, no matter how much resistance there was, no matter what grabbed at him, clawed at his cloak, pulled at his arm. He would not falter in his hold. Not until it was dead.

Then, suddenly, everything was quiet. The only sound was Etienne’s breathing and Auréle’s gasps. Etienne dropped the dagger on the pile of ashes before him, turning to hold Auréle again. He could see the corruption taking place, the twisting of his form starting.

“Etienne, you have to…”

“You cannot ask this of me, Auréle!”

“Please.”

The sound of shuffling caught Etienne’s attention and he looked up, seeing Graves struggling to rise. He was bloodied, bruised, and, perhaps, at the end of his own life.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Graves, you can’t—”

“Have mercy on him, Rousseau,” Graves snapped. Even in his weakened state, he still held command in his voice. “He won’t last, neither will I. I’ll handle it, but you handle destroying everything here.”

Etienne swallowed his emotions, considering what Graves was telling him. If Garnier had figured out a way to forcibly put demons into people to tear them apart and possess mages, it was a dangerous knowledge and one which should not be allowed to exist. He gave a stiff nod, setting Auréle down and turning to the cave.

“I will return to the Spire with my phylactery…You don’t have to worry about me running off.”

“I know.”

It was a beat before Etienne spoke again. “Auréle.”

“Yes?”

“I love you.” With that, Etienne walked to the cave, flames lighting on his fingertips. He heard the sound of blade on flesh and continued, flinching only slightly. He would destroy everything Garnier had worked on; his final step of vengeance.

 

* * *

 

 

Etienne stumbled into the settlement, the journey wearing on him. His phylactery dangled around his neck and he clutched it as he made his way to the Chantry. His appearance apparently took the local templars by surprise and they rushed out to greet him. He allowed them to take him and did not resist. They took the phylactery and took him to a secluded area of the Chantry. It didn’t matter how rough they were, Etienne felt numb.

“Send for Knight-Commander Eron,” Etienne finally spoke once they were in the private room. “My name is Etienne de Rousseau. I accompanied Lieutenant Graves to contend with a blood mage…I am the only survivor.”

“That was five templars and two mages…You’re telling me you’re the only one to have survived?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I will give a full report when Eron arrives.” Etienne looked the templar in the eye, jaw clenched. “It is not a story I wish to tell more than once.” The templar seemed to consider it before giving a nod.

“Very well, Rousseau.” He gave a nod to the recruits with him. “Get him some food and water. And send word to Val Royeaux immediately.”

The templars then left him alone for a moment and Etienne looked down at the locket he kept in his hand. His thumb traced the Rousseau symbol etched in gold against the silver before opening it. The image in it showed his mother, painted with careful detail.

“Vengeance was served, Mother…But at what cost?” He wondered how things would have been different if he hadn’t been so sure of himself. What if he had gone back to the camp and warned the others at the first sign? What if he hadn’t been so sure of himself…

It was these thoughts which would shape his future, his life to come and how he chose to act. He decided to look with more foresight, knowing being reckless and arrogant wouldn’t make amenable ends.

“I will not disappoint you again, Mother.”


End file.
